Temptation
by LikeTheBlackAndWhiteCat
Summary: They were their temptations; the ones they wanted but shouldn't have. The ones they couldn't have. But that's all about to change. Trory and JavaJunkie. Okay, I suck at summaries. Still...
1. The Stalking Game

**Summary: Literati or Trory (not sure yet) Set during seasons 2/3. Slightly AU if Trory (Tristen won't go to military if so and its Jess or Tristan rather than Jess or Dean/ Dean or Tristen. They'll also be a little Javajunkie. I'm not exactly sure of it's plot, but have an idea of some of the scenes - they've been bugging me for ages. Hopefully, once I've got a better idea, a proper summary shall be made.**

**Disclaimer: I do not - and sadly never will - own Gilmore Girls**

**Rating: T **

**A/N: Constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome. Please don't hate - it's my first Gilmore fanfic AND my first story on here. **

**CHAPTER ONE - The Stalking Game**

"Hey, d'you know what would be fun?" Leaning across the counter, Lorelai Gilmore grinned broadly at her seventeen year old daughter, amusement clearly dancing in her bright blue eyes as she spoke. "Well, do you?"

Returning her grin with an easy smile, Rory shrugged. "No one knows what _you_ think, Mom."

Lorelai hurmph'ed in mock indignation and leant back into her chair, crossing her arms. "You're mean!" She whined, pouting slightly. "Still, I think that _you_- " She began, a smirk forming on her lips "-would really really _really _like my idea. It'd be fun _and_ entertaining _and_ amusing." Drawing out each 'and' so to length the amount of time spent talking without actually saying more, Lorelai grinned once more. "That's right - drum roll please - I think...that we...should play...an all new game invented by yours truly, Lorelai Gilmore!" Rushing the end of the sentence, she threw her arms in the air, as Rory clapped, cheering her mother on.

Recomposing herself, Lorelai turned to her daughter and continued. "I think we should follow people."

"What?!" Rory exclaimed, her blue eyes widening as she gawked at her mother. Despite previous ideas of Lorelai's that had gone wrong, she honestly didn't think she'd heard of a worse suggestion since the Taylor/tortoise plan of '96. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope." Lorelai replied, popping the 'p'. Seeing her daughter's expression switch to her 'stop-mom-from-doing-something-stupid-and-possibly-illegal' mode, she quickly held up a hand. "Just listen."

When Rory didn't speak, she took a deep breath, her caffeine-induced mind whizzing as she attempted to apply logic to her suggestion, as she elaborated on her idea. "So, lots of jobs require people skills and as intelligent and wonderful as you are - being my kid and all - you're not particularly a people person. I mean, sure people_ like_ you, but I can count all of your friends on one hand - not that that's a problem. Then again, Charleston, aka El Doucheo, did bring up that whole loners-don't-get-into-Harvard thing last year... but that's off topic." Frowning slightly, Lorelai shook her head, ending her ramble and returning to the subject of her game. "Following people could_ help_ you gain more people skills, I mean think about it; you follow them, find out their likes and dislikes. Then, at the end of the day, if you like them you make an effort in becoming their friend, if not, who cares? It'd just be a little bit of fun."

"It'd be illegal." Rory deadpanned, still attempting to shut down the idea whilst there was a chance.

"What?" Lorelai's grin fell from her face as she frowned quizzically at her daughter. "How?"

" Following people - _stalking_ them - it's frowned upon by most states and illegal in others." She informed her mother matter-of-factly. "And _I _don't want a criminal record - _that _would really not help my chances of getting into Harvard."

Lorelai rolled her eyes, "Jeez, spoilt sport, how _are _you my daughter?" She joked. A gleam appeared in her eyes as she rethought the idea, refusing to let it go. "Oooh! I know!" Triumphantly, she fisted the air. "We don't keep following the same person, we look for something - say a green shirt - and follow the first person we see wearing one 'till we see someone else wearing one then follow _them!" _

Now it was Rory's turn to frown. "How many people do you knoe who wears a green shirt? And what sort of green - can the shade change or not? And-?"

"Rory, focus. It doesn't have to be a green shirt. Does that mean you'll play?" Hope coloured Lorelai's voice and excitement made her face shine as she grinned.

"It's still illegal." Rory attempted to rationalize, but to do so with a crazy woman was an impossible feat that even a Gilmore couldn't achieve. "And I never agreed."

Lorelai pouted and scowled at her daughter. "Try telling that to John Hinkley Jr, hasn't he got a tracker attached to you by now, or has he been lacking his Rory duties?"

Rory glared at her mother, knowing exactly what - or rather who - she was on about. "Dean is not a stalker." She irritably informed her. "Don't go involving him with this, there's no need. We're not following people end of."

Sensing her daughter's unwillingness to continue their conversation, Lorelai pursed her lips. "Okay." She sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right." Smiling, Rory kissed her mother's cheek and got up, grabbing her back pack as she did so. "I've gotta go," She told her, "Paris wants another look at _the_ _Franklin _and there's only so many blood vessels left in her forehead unburst - I'll be back later." Swinging her bag onto her back, Rory hurried out of the door. Lorelai watched her leave and sighed.

So intent on watching her daughter was she, that she didn't notice the unshaven man with the flannel shirt and backwards baseball cap walk up to her from behind the counter, until the strong aroma of coffee hit her nostrils. Looking forwards, she found the man pouring her a cup of her delicious life-line. Narrowing her eyes, she frowned.

"What, no lecture?"

Luke settled the pot down, beneath the coffee maker and raised an eyebrow. "Would you even listen if I tried?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Would you _really_ want me to? I mean, it'd stop so many conversations between us, start many in town, probably cause a riot, be brought up at the next town meeting, be cross-examined by Taylor and stop a beautiful tradition." Smirking, Lorelai sipped at her coffee, happily favouring it.

Luke glared at her. "Thanks for pointing out my temporary lapse of judgement. Never again will I give you coffee without issuing a health warning, happy?" He spoke gruffly but the twinkle in his eye, alerted Lorelai of the fact he wasn't actually mad, just being..._Luke._

"Ecstatic." Smiling sarcastically, Lorelai gulped down the remainder of her coffee and pushed out the mug, demanding a refill.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"It'll kill you."

"I'll die without it."

"You need help."

"I need coffee."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Grumbling, Luke went poured more coffee, each of them trying to hide their smirks as their playful banter continued.

**A/N(2): So not exactly the longest chapter ever, but as far as I'm concerned, there's plenty of time for longer one's. This one mainly shows Lorelai and Luke but others will be more Trory or ****Literati based. I think of anyone reads it and wants to vote who they want Rory to be with, majority will win. Please rate and review and help me to improve. I already have more parts planned, so yeah... :D**


	2. Mary, Mary, quite contrary

**Disclaimer: Rights for this aren't mine. Sadly.**

**CHAPTER TWO - Mary, Mary, quite contrary**

Sometimes Rory really wished she could be meaner. Whilst her mother had no problem insulting people, Rory found that anything even slightly cruel that she said - even if the person she directed it to deserved it - would leave her with a deep pool of guilt in the pit of her stomach. Unless she was speaking to a certain blonde haired, blue eyed boy, whose ego was so large it had its own gravitational pull, inevitably drawing the..._ Magdalene _girls of Chilton into its orbit where ever he went. Not that it only effected them, even her more studious classmates seemed drawn to him - Paris Gellar being a prime example. Still, Rory reckoned she'd have been okay with that, if not for the fact he was a Class-A jerk.

"Hey, Mary, mind if I join you?" Without waiting for an answer, Tristan DuGrey slid into the seat next to her and leant forwards, his ever present smirk widening as she sighed in irritance.

"Would my answer actually effect you, or are you going to remain sitting here regardless?"

Tristan moved closer to her, bending his neck slightly as he breathed softly on the side of her neck, noting the tiny tremor that travelled down her body as he did so. "_Everything _you do effects me." He told her, the innuendo clear as he empathised his first word.

_Truer words were never spoken. _He realised with a jolt as he took in her appearance. As Chilton had strict uniform regulations, most pupils - the females in particular - took advantage of what little flexibility it gave them, tailoring their blouses for a tighter fit, and shortening their skirts as much as they could, to aid them in their quests for male attention. But Rory Gilmore was not like that. Her skirt remained knee-length, and her shirt baggy and shapeless. And for some unknown reason, it made Tristan want her more.

_She has _no _idea of her effect on people. On _me.

_"Tristan!" _Rory's disapproving tone shook him from his thoughts, and he couldn't help but smirk at the faint blush that covered her otherwise ivory coloured cheeks.

"What's wrong, Mary, can't take a compliment?"

Rory glared at him. "It doesn't count as a compliment if it's false." She informed him, "And my name's _Rory!" _

"Who says that my compliment is false, Mare?" He asked, laughter highlighting his words and revealing his amusement at her obvious irritance. "Maybe I just want to compliment beautiful girl."

Rory let out a rather unlady-like snort. "And maybe Willy Wonka's a diabetic." She retorted, rolling her eyes.

Tristan frowned slightly. "Would it kill you to consider that I might be being sincere?"

"Yes." Rory almost regretted her answer as a flash of hurt crossed his face. "Can you really blame me?"

Unexplainable anger, shot through his veins and he found his hands to be clenched in fists. "Yes," he replied, repeating her answer, "I can." Despite the look of hurt and confusion that she gave him, he continued, finding himself unable to stop. "Sure, to begin with I was a jerk. And you'd probably insist that I still am, but you're _definitely _not as innocent as you make out. I mean, you obviously feel _something _no one kisses someone and then bursts into tears for no reason - there _has _to be a reason! And then there's the whole let's-be-friends fiasco - _your _idea, might I add - which included OK Harvey tickets, and BagBoy, and you yelling across the courtyard about how much you_ hate _me and _love _him! I know you thought I needed knocking down a peg or two, but _that... _that was like going bungee jumping without the cord. Thanks. So yeah, I guess I kind of _can _blame you." Taking a deep breath, Tristan ran a hand through his already messy blonde hair. Looking at the shocked expression on Rory's face, the realisation of what he'd spoken - or more accurately ranted - about hit him.

"I...I better go." Picking up the school bag that he'd previously oh-so-casually slung to the ground, he turned and exited the library, only stopping once he was out of sight from everyone. Facing his locker, he once again ran a hand through his hair. "Idiot." He told himself, "You're an idiot Tristan DeGrey."

…

Rory Gilmore sat in her seat, her school books abandoned as she stared at the doorway where Tristan had stormed out of, unsure of what exactly had just happened.

_On second thoughts, being nice is better..._

… …

Paris Gellar was in a foul mood. A usual Paris mood was never good, making this one particularly bad. In fact, Rory reckoned that if put in the same room, whilst in her current state of mind, Paris could quite easily be capable of causing Hitler to cry like a little girl and plead 'Uncle'. Unfortunately for her, no time machine had yet been created, so Paris was directing her anger at anyone and everyone around her. And guess who her English teacher had grouped her with?

The five sat uncomfortably around the circular wood table. In addition to Paris' general bad temper, Rory and Tristan had found themselves opposite each other, throwing dark looks back and forth, each muttering angrily under their breaths. Since the mornings outburst, Tristan hadn't spoken to Rory, going out of his way to ignore her, likewise, Rory wasn't on particularly friendly terms with him, still hurt about what he'd said - though she secretly acknowledged his points and knew some to have elements of truth in them. Out of the remaing two of the group, only Madeleine remained oblivious, humming happily to herself as she painted her nails a fluorescent pink. The fifth and last member of the group, Louise, watched the three, filing her nails as she did so, waiting for one of them to crack and for the yelling to commence.

"So...Tristan," She purred, "If this morning's scene meant anything, does that mean you're done chasing Rory?"

Two sets of blue eyes, both different in shade and brightness, turned and glared at her, hostility radiating from them loud and clear.

"None of you're business." Tristan snapped, irritation flooding his voice.

Seeing a chance for a fight - the perfect remedy for her foul mood parr the Mac-and-Cheese she so loved but was banned from eating - Paris quickly leapt in. "Actually, considering our assignment is to write a _detailed _essay on one of our group members, I'd say it's _everyone _here's business."

"_Actually, _unless, everyone's going to write about the _same _person, I doubt _everyone _needs to know." Tristan immediately retorted.

"Okay," drawing herself up to her full height Paris Sat upright in her chair, meeting his blue eyes with her brown ones. "Who do _you _want to pick?"

Tristan opened his mouth to speak, when another voice cut him off.

"That's not fair," Rory pointed out. "He'll barely have to do any work if he picks you - didn't you say that you've known each other since kindergarten?"

Tristan smirked, barely concealing his current anger towards the brunette. "Surely, knowing each other would result in _more _work - they'd be no excuse for lack of knowledge - still, if you want, I could always write about you." Still smirking, he leant back in his chair, and pretended to think about it. "Yeah," he 'pondered', "I could interview your friends, family..._boyfriend..."_ Tristan's smirk grew so wide the Cheshire Cat would have been proud, as Rory's face paled. "Thanks Gilmore," he said, "y'know I think I _will _do it on you, great idea!"

Rory bit her lip, helpless to stop him. To protest would cause problems, raising the question as to _why _shewas against him writing about her, and _why _she didn't want him to talk to Dean. Questions she _really _didn't want being answered. Faking a smile, she turned to him, her annoyance clear in her bright blue eyes. "No problem. Dean works most weekdays, so interviewing him might be a bit problematic." She 'sweetly' informed him.

"Not to worry, I can always arrange a meeting in advance - to make sure I catch him. You can always help - if I fail this assignment, we all do, and you wouldn't want that." Tristan's barely concealed threat made Rory's eyes widen.

"Of course not." She said. Turning to Paris, she continued, "so who are _you _going to choose?"

…

Collapsing on her sofa, Rory sighed and ran a hand through her ever-so-slightly wavey brown hair. After the seemingly never-ending English lesson, the rest of the day had passed considerably quickly much to both her relief and surprise. By the end of the lesson, they'd all picked someone; Tristan choosing her, Paris choosing Tristan, Louise choosing Paris, Madeline choosing Louise and her ending up with Madeleine. She hadn't hated her assignment - out of the choices Madeleine was the friendliest, And what with her being a constant source of happy oblivion towards the rest of the world, Rory couldn't help but notice the easy innocence and naïve nature that surrounded her, despite the rumours and famous hookups she was known for. Still, she wasn't looking forward for the weekend, which was when Tristan was insisting on visiting her.

Sighing once more, Rory got headed into the kitchen to get the only thing that could possibly cheer her up right then - a gigantic mug of super-strong coffee.

…

**A/N: Hey, so... what do you think. I wasn't actually planning on Tristan and Rory fighting, but I just... ended up writing it. Erm... hopefully this was okay. The next chapter will be (ish) because I'd actually like people to read this and if you/they are anything like me, then you/they don't/won't read anything incomplete that has less than six chapters ('less it IS complete and/or an oneshot). So yeah. Please rate and review, feedback is ALWAYS appreciated.**

**A/N(2): I've been ordered by my '**_**lovely' **_**twin to point out the actual stalking game in the previous chapter was an actual idea of hers that she suggests to strangers. The word 'illegal' was tossed around a lot that day...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey, er... hopefully this chapter will be okay. I'm not completely sure how good it'll be as not only do I only have a vague plan, and less than four hours sleep l, having been up since five-thirty (yay!) -.- Still, hopefully this'll be okay. I mean, Jess'll be in it and everyone named/nick-named Jess is automatically awesome...**

**CHAPTER THREE - **

Looking woefully at her chipped blue mug, Lorelai sighed. Rather than be full to the brim with her wonderful lifeline, it was only half full (see, she wasn't a pessimist) with what could only be described as brown sludge. Sam the coffee maker was broken. Running a hand through her messy dark brown hair, she sighed once more.

"ROR-Y!" She yelled, "I'm going to Luke's!"

...

"Oh Lukey!" Burst ing through the diner door like Speedy Gonzalez on speed, Lorelai rushed to the counter. "Coffee, coffee _aaaannnndddd*_ more coffee!" She demanded, coming to a standstill.

Luke raised an eyebrow. "No."

_"_Why?"

"Why d'you think?" Even as he said it, Luke was walking over to the coffee pot.

Amused, Lorelai smirked. "Because you want it all to yourself?"

"In what universe?" Handing her the mug, he once again raised an eyebrow.

"Okay... Because an elephant drank it?" Lorelai rolled her startling blue eyes, as though her answer was obvious, and taking a small sip as she did so.

Now it was his turn to smirk. "Where did the elephant come from?"

"A mommy elephant and Taylor." Trying to keep a straight face, Lorelai leant towards him, leaning across the counter.

"Taylor fathered an elephant? Does it also wear stupid cardigans?" Still smirking Luke also leant forwards, closing the distance between then and watched her as she finished off her coffee.

Swallowing the remainder of her drink, Lorelai licked her lips, unable to stop the soft murmer of appreciation that left them as she tasted the essence of the liquid. Looking up at him through her dark lashes, she smiled at him almost shyly.

"Thanks."

Putting little to no thought into it, she closed the distance between them, gently pressing her lips to his. Slowly, almost hesitantly at first, Luke responded, kissing her back. Breaking the kiss, the two of them smiled at each other.

Luke opened his mouth to speak.

"Lorelai, I-"

_Brrrrrrrrrrrrring!_

Snapping her eyes open, Lorelai glared at the phone. Never had she hated an inanimate object quite as much as she currently did. Not that she cared about _what _it'd been about. No, _obviously _she wasn't upset about the fact it had ended, it was just when. She wanted - _needed _- to know the end of Dream-Luke's sentence.

_It could have been anything from 'Lorelai_, I'm _pregnant'_ _to 'Lorelai_, I _killed_ a _badger_ _and_ _need_ _help_ _burying_ _it_ _in_ _Taylor's_ _lawn'_. She thought irritably. Sighing, she got up from and and ran a hand through her hair.

Suddenly, the fact the _phone_ was was what was ringing registered and she lunged at it, quickly answering it before the earlier caller bung up.

"House of Lorelais, who dares disturb me from my slumber?" She asked cheerfully.

"Erm...Lorelai?" The uncertain voice of Diner Man himself, Luke Danes answered,

A strange feeling of anticipation swirled in her stomach as the memory of her dream 're-entered her thoughts. "Speaking."

"Well...I..." Pausing to take a deep breath he tried again. "I was...er...wondering if you...er...had some spare pillows?"

Disappointed flooded her body and for a moment Lorelai was rendered speechless as she tried to work out where her feeling of being let down was coming from. _Don't be silly, _she scolded herself, _it's just because of that dumb dream. Besides, you don't like Luke like that. _Like lying to herself had ever worked before.

"Lorelai?" Luke's gruff voice interrupted her thoughts, "You still there?"

"Wha-? What?" Shaking her head, she sighed. "Yeah, I'm still here. That'll be fine. They're kinda...girly though. Y'know pink, purple, reddish-pink, pinkish-red, pinky-purple, hello kitty like. Oh, we have a blue one. I think. Unless we gave it away... it wasn't very comfy. In fact, I seem to recall a compression to a catus being made, but, if you want them... Sure!" As usual, she spoke quickly as she rambled, and as usual, silence followed her words.

"Luke?" Now it was _her_ voice that was the uncertain one.

"Still here. They'll be fine. Can I pick them up soon? I only need a couple." He paused. "My nephew's coming to stay."

"Oh." Lorelai was unsure of what to say. She hadn't actually known he had siblings, let alone a nephew. "Like as a holiday?"

"Er...No." Embarrassment coloured his voice. "To stay. Liz, my sister, she isn't..._good..._coping with him. Can't give him the attention he needs_ and _deal with he trouble he gets into, so I offered to help." He explained. Lorelai could imagine him scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he did so - it was typical Luke behaviour.

**"**Oh." She repeated. "Well that's nice. I mean it's Nove that he has you, not that she can't cope." She rolled her eyes at her lameness. "Look, come 'round whenever, I'm not doing anything and the door's always open."

"Olay."

"Okay. Well, I've gotta go - Rory just..." She hesistated, trying to think of a good excuse to hang up. "...Put her head in the oven?" With that, she quickly ended the call. Pitching the phone to her chest, she stood still for a moment, deep in thought. Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair, and hurried down the stairs towards her daughter's room.

"ROR-Y!" She wailed, "Help Mommy, she's an idiot. A stupid, stupid idiot." Then she went into her daughter's room and proceeded to fill her in on both the dream and the conversation that followed after.

...

Rory stood at the gates of Chilton, scanning the swarms of students contained within the cobblestone courtyard. Spotting a familiar blonde, she started forwards, determination rolling off her in waves.

"Tristan!"

The boy turned around at the sound of his name. Realising it'd came from a certain blue-eyed brunette, he smirked inwardly.

She rolled her eyes, inexplicably irritated. "Tristan!" She called again , "I want to say...er...sorry." She looked down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze.

"Really?" He questioned, his smirk clearly there even in his voice. "What for?"

"You know." She told him. Tristan simply raised an eyebrow neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her statement. Realising he wasn't going to help her out, she elaborated. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I doubted your sincerity, I'm sorry that I kissed you and ended up crying, I'm sorry for wanting to be your friend because - and Lord knows why - I actually enjoy your company and don't want to be deprived of it. I'm just...sorry, okay?" Flinging her arms in the air, she finally looked him in the eye. Throughout her apology she'd gotten more and more worked up. She_ definitely _hadn't meant to say _all _of that.

Slowly, his face split into a wide grin. "Okay." He said.

"Okay?" Disbelief coloured her words. "Okay, that's it?"

"Well," he replied, his trademark smirk back in place, "I wouldn't want to _deprive _you of my company, now would I?"

Rory rolled her eyes. "Idiot." She muttered. "Of course _that's _the part he wanted to hear." Raising her voice she turned back to him, "So how long do you think you'll be holding my apology above my head."

Smirking, he put an arm around her shoulders. "Apology? I gotta say some of that sounded a confession. Still," he continued, shooting her a careless grin, "I always knew you couldn't hide your true feelings for me."

Pushing his arm off of her, Rory glared at him. "Jerk."

He just grinned.

...

**A/N: I **was **going to actually include Jess arriving and what not, but I kinda like this chapter ending. So...Yeah. please, rate and review. Also, feel free to PM me.O actually like talking to people though I can't initalise conversation... :/**

*** though I noticed in time,y kindle tried to autocorrect this to 'salamanders' ... Then again it also changes my name (Jess) to 'Jesus'... in case anyone wanted to know.**


	4. Coffee Crime

**A/N: Time for chapter four. THIS time Jess is definitely actually in here... probably. And whoooo! I got a review! Yay! You have no idea how ridiculously happy getting a review made me. As always, please read, rate and review. :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, apart from stuff that I own. But with this story that's nothing... **

**CHAPTER FOUR - Coffee Crime**

"I can't believe you dreamt about _Luke!" _Rory exclaimed, the amusement in her voice as clear as glass.

"Well, I can't believe it's not butter, but hey! Let's move on, okay?" Lorelai quipped, hopelessly hoping to change the subject.

"I mean _Luke. _Luke's Diner Luke. Luke's Diner Flannel-Wearing Luke. Luke's Diner Flannel-Wearing Grumpy-Like-An-Old-Man Luke. Lu-"

"Okay! I get it!" Slapping a hand over her daughter's mouth, Lorelai rolled her eyes. "It's not that big of a deal." She removed her hand.

"Actually, that depends." Rory argued, entertained by her mother's discomfort. "Was it dirty?"

Scowling, Lorelai swatted her daughter's arm and continued to walk up the driveway.

"I knew it was a mistake telling you." She muttered under her breath. Rory ignored her.

"I mean, you said you had the dream on Wednesday, and yesterday you were happy - ridiculously so. Normally you're only like that when you've done something sultry..." She trailed off and grimanced slightly. "On seconds thoughts, I don't want to know. We eat there everyday and I'm not sure that I could look him in the eye, knowing that my mom has sexual fantasies about him."

Once again, Lorelai rolled her eyes, "I do _not_." She told her daughter in a somewhat exasperated manner, "And we don't eat there_ every _day."

"Yeah, we do."

"Do not!"

"Do to!"

"Do not!"

"Do To!"

"DO NOT!"

"D-!"

The door opened, effectively cutting off Rory's retort. Emily Gilmore stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and disapproval written across her face.

"I thought I heard voices." She told them courtly. "So did the citizens of _Australia_ by the volume of which you two insisted on yelling at."

Whilst Rory had the decency to look down at her feet ashamed, Lorelai just smirked, pleased with her mother's displeasure.

"Actually, this one woman there - Greta - she didn't hear. See, she's old - ninety-three in August - and has hearing problems - actually she's deaf, she just won't admit it and besides it's not like she can do anything about it and her grandkids never visit 'cause they don't see the point of visiting an old deaf woman even though she's a relative and _seriously_ lonely. I mean she goes to the bus stop just to talk to the people in the queue - it's actually quite sweet, people call her the 'friendly old Greta' because she's friendly and old and...and...oh yeah, she didn't hear."

Emily pursed her lips, not in the slightest bit amused by her daughter's attempt at humour. "Lorelai, kindly stop babbling and actually enter the house - you're letting the cold in."

"Actually Grandma, that's a general misconception; she's not letting the cold _in, _she's letting the heat _out_. Heat travels from hot to cold..." Seeing the look her grandmother shot her way, Rory trailed off uncomfortably. "I'm going to be quiet." She semi-muttered, causing Lorelai's smirk to widen.

"Yes, good idea." Emily cooly remarked, before leading the three of them into the sitting room. "And Lorelai wipe that smirk of your face."

...

The two younger Gilmores exited the house, quietly closing the door behind them. Leaning on it, Lorelai sighed and looked at her daughter.

"Luke's?" She asked.

"Luke's." Rory agreed, a glimmer of amusement still dancing in her eyes.

"Stop it." Lorelai's retort was feeble, a side effect of the sluggish tiredness she always felt after any amount of time spent with her parents.

"Stop what?" Though she asked it innocently enough, the smirk etched onto Rory's face said otherwise.

"You know what, so stop." Lorelai sent her daughter a half-hearted glare. "And you're driving - I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel." With a light, joking tone, she tossed Rory the keys and the two of them ventured back to their battered old jeep.

...

"It's shut." Rory tilted her head, a slight frown apparent on her forehead. "Mom, why's it shut?"

Lorelai also frowned as she read the 'closed' sign, unable to fully comprehend its message. "I don't know." She said slowly, "but I really want some coffee."

"You always want coffee."

"Well now I extra want coffee to the point of _needing _it in order to survive and not drop dead at any given second." She paused and cranes her neck upwards towards Luke's apartment window. "LUKE!" She yelled, causing Rory to jump back in surprise, "LUKE! I want coffee! We're coming in!"

Grabbing the spare set of keys that Luke had predictably hidden above the programme, she let herself and Rory in.

The two girls quickly busied themselves, grabbing large mugs of coffee and an assortment of different doughnuts between them. Spreading their loot across two tables, they tucked in.

"This is great!" Lorelai told her daughter thickly, her mouth still stuffed with food. Quickly swallowing, she continued. "We should do this _every _Friday."

"The whole reason we're doing this is because Luke closed up early today." Rory pointed out, "And we usually do do this every Friday... and every other day of the week - there's just usually other pros around - _Luke _in particular - so we don't have to break and enter for food."

"Oh shush and eat your food."

The two Gilmores shared a smile and continued to eat, now in silence. So in engrossed in their food and coffee, they failed to notice the diner door opening until...

"WHAT IN THE HE'LL?!"

Both girls jumped, and Lorelai fell off her chair, letting out a small shriek as she did so. Clambering back onto her seat, she turned to the source of her surprise. "Jeez, Luke!" She exclaimed, "what are you doing here? You just gave me a heart attack!" Always the drama queen, Lorelai held onto her chest and looked pathetically at the diner owner, who was currently in the doorway and fuming with anger.

"What am _I _doing here? What are _you?" _He glared at the two of them. For the second time that evening, Rory looked down at the floor, unable to meet his stern gaze. Lorelai, however, just stared at him. She could clearly see the throbbing vein in his forehead and his face was red with anger. For once, Lorelai Gilmore was speechless.

"Huh." An unfamiliar voice broke her thoughts. Looking up, she noticed the black haired teenage boy behind him. "I thought it was kinda obvious, Uncle Luke." He smirked at his uncle, his tone distant and disinterested. He clearly didn't want to be there and had no problem making that fact known. "They're eating." He said the last sentence slowly, as though talking to a small child or stupid gerbil, and pointed at the food on the tables.

Luke glared at him, "Yes, I know that." He snapped, "What I want to know is why they're doing that _here _and _how_ they got in."

"We used keys." Rory answered, before looking at her mom, "Mom made it sound like it was okay?"

Luke's nephew threw her a crooked grin. "Was that a question?"

"Was that maybe-question directed at you?" She replied.

"I don't know, was it?"

"Don't answer a question with a question." Rory shot back, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Just because."

"Jus-?"

"ENOUGH!" Both teens jumped as Luke bellowed. He was shaking with fury, whilst Lorelai shook with laughter as she watched the two teens interact.

Luke sighed. "It's late." He turned to Jess. "Go upstairs, get settled I'll be up in a second."

"But-"

"Now Jess." He barked. Jess grudgingly obliged. Luke turned back to the Gilmores. "Rory," he said, "you might as well go as well, I doubt this was _your hairbrained _scheme."

Rory replied with a small smile before leaving the diner silently and going home.

Luke was silent for a moment, just watching Lorelai as she tried to work out what to say.

"Luke." She began.

"Lorelai."

"Luk-" She paused and bit her lip. Shaking her head, she tried again. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." She informed him. Refusing to meet his gaze, she continued. "We'd been at my parents, and you know how that is. So, of course, I wanted coffee but here was closed. So I found your spare keys - the doorframe, really? That's less original than our turtle... _Anyway, _I assumed you were upstairs, so I yelled to let you know of our wonder presences before entering. I know it was wrong... but _coffee._"

Luke sighed again. "It's okay." He told her.

They were silent for a moment.

"_Sooooo_, that was your nephew." As usual, Lorelai was the one to break the silence. Luke nodded.

"Yup." He agreed. "That was Jess." He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortably.

"So those cushions, they were for him, right?"

"Yup." Again, he agreed. "I did tell you. You know, when I asked to borrow them."

"Oh." She smiled sheepishly. "I just figured you were lying and that you had some sort of cushion fetish."

Luke frowned. "F-fetish?!" His face seemed tinted with pink and he shifted uncomfortably. Lorelai laughed.

"Wow!" She exclaimed, "Even _Rory _doesn't blush at the word 'fetish', you're a bigger prude than her!" She giggled.

Luke glared at her. "I'm _not _a prude." He told her, "I just don't think talking about fetishes is...appropriate."

Lorelai giggled again. "Prude!" She squealed, "Luke's a prude!"

"I'm not!" Hands in the air, Luke let out an exasperated sigh. Suddenly an almost _Lorelai _idea__popped__into__his__head. Before he could reconsider, Luke had grabbed Lorelai's mug of coffee and was headed towards the diner kitchen. Lorelai followed him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, curious as he stopped by the sink.

Luke turned to her and smiled grimly. "Admit that I'm not a prude or the liquid death you insist on digesting goes down the drain."

Lorelai eyed him and the coffee, trying to calculate her chances of saving the coffee _and _laughing at Luke's expense. Biting her lip sub-consciously, she moved closer to him.

"Prove it," she told him. "Prove to me that you're not a prude."

Luke looked at her. Looked at her bright blue eyes, that sparkled mischievously, looked at her rose coloured lips, the bottom one sticking out slightly as she chewed at it nervously. He so badly wanted to touch it, carass it softly before placing his own on top of them and kiss them. He wondered if her kisses tasted purely of the coffee she doted upon or if they had more flavour than that. He could already imagine how addictive they'd be. Some sweet and gentle, others fast and passionate, but all _Lorelai_.

"Well?" Her voice, soft, nervous and lacking it's previously teasing tone, jolted him from his thoughts.

He shook his head, mentally scolding himself. _Don't be an idiot. It's Lorelai - you don't want to _kiss _her, she's your friend, idiot. _

"Luke?" Realising he still hadn't replied, he shot her a small smile. All but shoving the mug into her hands, he pushed passed her, away from the sink.

"Whatever." He muttered briefly. "There's your coffee. Remember to lock up after yourself, you know where the keys are." And with that, the went upstairs to his apartment, leaving a baffled Lorelai behind.

...

**A/N: So... hopefully that's okay. I wasn't actually planning on this chapter having much JavaJunkie, but... Yeah. I think next chapter will be more Rory-Jess centric, establishing their friendship and what not. **

**So please rate and review. Oh and if you spot any spelling errors, **please **tell me. My spelling is awful. I actually spelt my name wrong on one of my GCSE exams... And we all had cards with them on it... wow, so clever. So yeah. Thanks for reading, if read you do :D**


	5. A Chapter of Chapteryness

**A/N: So new chapter. It's not really long but contains... stuff. Probably. Erm, if you like it please rate and review - I will send each and every reviewer their own (probably rather ramble-y (is that a word, I don't think so...)) PM to say thanks. So yeah. Please? Wow, begging. How pathetic. *sighs* ANYWAY... Yeah. Thanks?**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned it... *sigh* it'd just... Yeah. But unfortunately I don't so no suing or whatnot... please?**

...

...

**CHAPTER FIVE -A Chapter of Chapteryness**

...

...

Paris Gellar banged on the door impatiently, a look of annoyance present on her face. Then again, Tristan thought, whereas she not irritated. He shifted his weight from one side to the other as he leant against the porch railing, semi-sitting on it, and sighed. Beside him, Madeline and Louise - or dumb and dumber as he liked to call them - huddled together, gossiping about some popular Hartfordee, though even they were beginning to sound a little bored.

Tristan sighed once more, surprised at his Mary's lack of punctuality. Hang on a sec, _his_ Mary? He frowned slightly, and shook his head. No, he corrected himself, Mary wasn't his, but he didn't want her like that, didn't want her as something to keep. She was just necessary; required for him to remain the popular, irresistible and charming King of Chilton, that was all. Or their jokes, all their digs, it was all for that goal, right? Somehow, he failed to convince himself.

Shaking his head once more, Tristan turned to Paris. "Maybe we should just leave her?" He half-heartedly suggested, reluctant to leave whilst Rory Gilmore was nearby.

Paris glared at him. "Not a chance, DuGrey." She told him sternly. "It's a group project, we get marked as a group, and she's part of our group. Are you seeing a pattern?" She huffed in annoyance and bashed n the door again. "Seriously, how isn't she hearing this?!"

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Well what did she say on the phone yesterday?" He asked, watching the display of typical Paris behaviour.

"I didn't speak to her yesterday." Slowly Paris turned away from the door and glared at Tristan. "You were meant to tell her." Her tone was accusing and anger flashed in her eyes.

Sub-consciously taking a step back, Tristan raised his hand, half as a surrender, half as a shield from Paris 's inevitable wrath. "I didn't know her number." He meekly told her, "So I sort of didn't."

Paris glared at him. _If Harvard looked positively at murder..._

"You mean to tell me," She all but snarled, "That we've been waiting for Gilmore, whilst she doesn't have a clue, we're meeting?!" Throughout the sentence, the volume of her voice had gradually grown until, at last, she was yelling.

"I-" Tristan opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by an unfamiliar voice behind him. Turning around he immediately pinpointed the owner of the voice - a small rather squat woman with blonde hair who rather resembled an excitable goblin.

"Hey, sugars!" She called, her voice hoarse and rough, like his mother's after a particularly vocal argument with his mother. "Hey." Hurrying across the lawn towards them, the woman stopped at the stairs and held on to her waist, panting slightly. "Yo-you're lookin' for Rory an' Lorelai, right?" She asked. "Well they're not here, probably at Luke's, or the inn, or at Doose's, or at that nice sandwich shop on Peach. Morey and I went there the other day. We try to go every week, an' I'd recommend it if I could remember the name... something snazzy...something like...MOREY!" The goblin-lady raised her voice and hollered her husband, making Tristan cringed slightly at the sheer volume emitted. A distant "What?" responded, and Babette made to answer when Paris cut her off.

"Look, as great as I'm sure this all is, we're here to meet with _Rory_ not to get _sandwich_ shop recommendations, so either tell us where she'll be, or get lost."

For the first time in known history, Babette was speechless. Upfrontted, she turned on her heel and hurried back to her house, not even attempting to argue with Paris. Once she was gone, Tristan turned to frown at her.

"You could have been politer." He reprimanded her.

Paris happily returned the gesture with a cold stare. "And you could have been drowned at birth, what's you're point?"

He saved from answering by another voice joining on.

"A better point would be why Paris Gellar, the two Oslen Twins, and - unless I'm mistaken, in which case sorry, but even the best get something wrong at some point or other in their lives, so it's been a long time coming - the Spawn of Satan, himself, are doing on my doorstep?"'

Turning around, Tristan raised an eyebrow at the newcomer and smirked - with her bright blue eyes and the way she clung to her coffee cup like it was a lifeline, she was definitely a relation of Rory's. "Hey, I'm Tristan," He held out his hand, smirk still in place and slavering his words with charm. "But for a pretty lady like you, I'll be called anything you like." When the woman didn't move to shake it, he withdrew his hand. "And you are?"

"Lorelai Gilmore - Rory's _mom_." She glared at him, and instantly he knew he knew. She knew everything he'd done, every jab, comment, tease he'd ever made to (or at) Rory had been relayed back to her, and now she hated him. Worse though, she knew that he knew, and he knew that she knew that he knew, and she knew that he knew that she knew that he knew and he knew that she knew that he knew that she knew that he knew, _and..._

Stopping his thoughts there, he tuned back to what was being said.

"-much point in you staying here waiting for her."

"Sorry? What?" Confused Tristan frowned, and a looked of annoyance crossed Lorelai's face before she repeat the sentence, this time slowly as though speaking to a small dumb child.

"I said: 'Rory's not here right now, but she'll be back later, so I can tell her you dropped by if you want, but there's not much point in you staying here waiting for her."

"Oh, okay." Disappointment flooded his body as he realised he wasn't going to see her that day. He scratched the back of his neck, "Well I suppose we should've called..."

"Yeah, that might be a good idea in the future." Sarcasm laced her words. Wow, she really didn't like him. By now the others had made their way to Paris 's car, and he started towards it, before pausing and turning back to Lorelai.

"I didn't mean it." He blurted out, "I didn't mean it to upset her, honestly."

Lorelai studied the blonde-haired boy in front of her. "I know." She told him simply, and for a second he thought he saw a flicker of approval in her sharp blue eyes. "But that doesn't mean I like you." Not waiting for a response, she turned sharply on her heel and entered her house, leaving a rather dumbfounded Tristan on her doorway.

...

...

"So what's your story?" Rory looked up from her book as Jess slid into the seat next to her.

"What?" She frowned in annoyance, not so much because of the company, but more because of the lack of reading and increase in distractions.

"Your story, as in _life_ not current _book_, what is it?" He paused before elaborating. "I mean you kind of seem the town princess, but good girls aren't exactly known for their _breaking and entering_..."

Realising she wasn't going to be continuing her reading anytime soon, Rory sighed and closed her book. "There's no story. I'm just me. Besides, that '_breaking and entering'_, that was my _mom'_s idea, not _mine._"

"Huh." Leaning back in his chair, Jess raised an eyebrow as he studied her.

"Huh." Mimicking him, she also leant back, though she crossed her arms as she observed him. "What about you? What's your story? I bet you've done_ a lot_ worse than _just_ breaking and entering."

Jess shot her a lazy smirk, he was beginning to like this girl...

...

...

Lorelai sat on her sofa, staring at the static on the TV as she awaited her daughter's return, or for the timer on Harold the coffee maker to go off, which ever came first.

She was bored. Like really _if-I-don't-become-amused-in-the-next-five-minutes-then-I'm-shaving-my-head-and-hopping-around-the-room-twelve-times_ bored. Usually she'd be at Luke's drinking coffee with Rory, irritating him and being not-bored. But since the whole Luke thing...

Sighing, she leant forwards and grabbed the remote before pressing the buttons randomly, assigning each square a noise.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeck. Ding-a-ling-ding. Quack. Plipplopplip. Spaaaaaaaaaaaghetti."

She sighed again. Damn did she hate being bored.

...

...

"You did not!" Rory errupted with giggles, laughing as Jess's cheeks slowly became coloured with a slight pink. "That poor vicar!"

"Shamefully, it's all true, I swear." He ran a hand through his styled black hair.

"You shouldn't swear, it's bad." Rory warned him, before cocking her head to the side, "But really, all of it? Even the part about the goat...?"

Jess just nodded. "Yup, and don't get me started on the class prank of '96..."

"Oooh! What happened?" Sub-consciously, Rory leant closer to him, eager to hear his tales of mischief and misbehaving.

He smirked again. "Well-"

"Rory?" A deep - ridiculously deep in Jess' opinion - voice cut over him. Looking up, he noticed a huge, lanky boy in towering over their table, a look of confusion on his face. "Rory? I thought we were meeting at the Gazebo?"

"Oh." Suddenly subdued, Rory kept her eyes on the scratched table surface not meeting the newcomer's eye. "Yeah... I was just..." She gestured d at her cup of coffee - the forth since Jess had sat by her - as though that explained everything.

"Right..." Dean shrugged, noticing the unexplainable tension circling the three of them. Turning to Jess, he shot him a friendly grin. "Oh, well I'm Dean." He introduced himself, "and you're Jess, right? Luke's nephew?"

Jess responded with a lazy smirk. "That's what I've been told." He turned to Rory. "Boyfriend?"

"Yup." Smiling she turns to Dean and squeezed his hand. "The one and only."

"Huh." He nodded. "You never mentioned him."

"It didn't come up." Wondering where the friendly guy who'd been laughing with her just moments before had gone, she sighed and turned to Dean. "Come on, I'm done here." He nodded and grabbed her book as she stood up. Rory looked at Jess and shot him a small smile. "See you later, Goatie."

He nodded, his face impassive. "It seems to turn out that way."

...

...

**A/N: So, hopefully long(ish). I tried to write a similar thing to Jess and Dean's actualfirst meeting but not exactly the same. So yeah... Please rate, review and help me improve :) And yeah...**


	6. Sofa Scene (too small to be a chapter)

**A/N:**** This isn't really long enough to be considered a proper chapter, but I'm tired and can't be bothered to write more. Plus this typing this a great way of procrastinating... I hate maths revision... Anyway, yeah. Sorry.**

**:**

**A Non-Chapter Chapter - Sofa Scene**

:

They weren't enjoying each other's company. They weren't enjoying it at all. What was meant to be a fun, light hearted movie date night had somehow turned into a boring tedious event. And neither one of them knew how to fix. Worse still, Rory wasn't sure she even _wanted _to, if they'd be any point. After all, they'd somehow turned into familiar individuals lacking the connect they one had - or at the very least thought - had.

"I like this part." Pointing at the TV screen where _Mary Poppins _was currently having a tea party on the ceiling, she glanced up at Dean. "Though that man used to freak me out as a kid."

"I know." Dean didn't bother to hide his utter boredom as he sat beside his girlfriend, watching a _kid's _movie and having the same conversation they'd had _last _time he'd been made to watch it. "You told me that before."

"Oh." With a sigh, Rory looked back at the screen. "Sorry."

They spent the rest of the movie in silence.

**:**

**:**

Lorelai tip-toed into the house, barefoot with her heels in hand so not to awaken the two sleeping teenagers that lay resting on her settee. Pausing, she quietly studied the couple, taking note of how Dean's arm was trapped affectionately over her daughter's shoulders, resting innocently on her waist as Rory cuddled into his chest. Lorelai couldn't help but smile; she marvelled at how happy they looked and how it seemed nothing could stop them from loving one another...

**:**

**:**

**A/N:**** I know, REALLY short, like half a hobbyist kinda short, but this scene has been stuck in my head for DAYS but I couldn't find a way of fitting it into my next or previous chapter, so yeah... think of it as a bonus scene? Still, feel free to rate and review. (All reviewers get PMs back to say thanks)**


	7. WoodChucks

**A/N: ****So you know how Rory got hit by a deer in season one (episode 'Deer Hunters'), well today I got hit by a squirrel. A squirrel. I mean seriously? What the hell?! I was cycling then BAM! It went and hit my bike, so I stopped and it ran and hit my foot. Then it hit my bike's front wheel again before running up a tree. THEN a woman who was walking by stopped to say "that was weird" before walking off. YOU DON'T SAY! Gah! Anyway… Chapter Time. Please Read, Rate and Beware of EVIL squirrels. **

**Oh and thanks to those who do review, and sorry for my rather rambling thanks that I sent you :3**

**DISCLAIMER:**** Usual stuff. I own nothing but my shattered hopes and dreams.**

**:**

**CHAPTER SIX -**

**:**

"Hey, how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood." Lorelai grinned at the look of bewilderment on Luke's face. "Miss me?"

After two days of avoiding the diner and all things Luke-related (which, let's face it, was pretty much just the diner, the guy made fantastic coffee but he wasn't exactly Star Hollow's most sociable), she'd finally caved and now she sat in her usual seat at the counter smiling at her man in the flannel shirt. _Her man?_

Ignoring her thoughts, something she was surprisingly good at, she grinned once again. "Well?" She demanded, "What's the answer?"

"Forty-Two." Before Luke'd even opened his mouth, he was cut off. Both adults turned to looked at Jess, who smirked in response. "The answer's forty-two." He repeated.

"Oh-kay..." Lorelai pursed her lips as she thought. "What about this one; how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a would chuck could Chuck Noris?"

Luke frowned. "That makes no sense." He informed her. Turning away from the counter he busied himself making her some coffee.

"Easy. Also forty-two." Jess just smirked.

"Why?! Why would it be forty-two. Twenty-seven is a _way_ nicer number, it's got a two and a seven and both have nice shapes and that's it. They're nice numbers. If I were a number, I'd want to be twenty-seven." Lorelai exclaimed, evidently unhappy with the answer given.

"You were when I was eleven." Coming over to them, Rory took a seat next to her manic mother. "But what answer didn't answer twenty-seven?"

"The woodchuck one." Pouting, Lorelai sighed. "I need coffee."

"That's why you're here." Slouching, Jess continued to smirk (W_as he ever not?_ Lorelai thought, irritated, to herself). "And the answer wasn't twenty-seven 'cause it was forty-two -"

"-the answer to the universe." Rory finished, cutting him off and smiling broadly. "_The Hitchhiker's __Guide to the Galaxy." _She clarified.

"Huh." He nodded in approval and returned her smile. "Not bad. What about 'Four legs good two legs bad'?"

Now it was _Rory's _turn to smirk, and she did so, scoffing loudly. "Animal farm - one of the seven commandments."

"Published ...?"

"On 17th August 1945 by an English writer who went by the pen name George Orwell, though his real name was-"

"Eric Arthur Blair, born25th June 1903 and died on 21st January 1950 - aged 46."

"Huh." She mimicked his usual answer and smiled. "Not bad, Goatie."

"Goatie?" Lorelai looked between the two of them confused. "Since when have you known each other well enough for nicknames - since when have you known each other _at all?_" Slightly more than just a little upset, she frowned.

Jess smirked. "Haven't you heard, we're _besties _now. Well, 'till I propose and we elope in Vegas, where you'll get annual updates on how we are and late Christmas Cards each February. 'Cause work'll be hard to fine and I'll probably end up being a dealer whilst Rory works on the streets, but when we buy a puppy and see the look in its eyes, it'll all be worth it." His smirk widened as both Gilmores glowered at him. "Or not." He shrugged as both girls continued to glare. "I suppose your _boyfriend_ wouldn't like that plan either."

Rory almost flinched at how venomously he said the word 'boyfriend', what did _he_ have to be mad about?

"Whatever, Jess." No longer wanting to be there, she got up and left, inexplicably angry.

Jess watched her go, a small pang in his stomach. "Huh," He drawled, "Someone's not very friendly today."

Lorelai scoffed in annoyance. Grabbing four take-away cups of coffee (two per Gilmore) and a selection of pastries, she quickly followed her daughter's suit, exiting the Diner with a final glare at Luke's hair-gel obsessed nephew.

_That stupid Hoodlum. _

**:**

**:**

"I don't care what you say, Helen, that boy is s_poilt!_" Tristan winced at his father's angry tone as he address his mother. "He's spoilt, self-centred and in need of discipline. He's a DuGrey and its high time he acted like one."

"David..." His mother began weakly, not wanting to agree with her husband but having a hard time not. "He's not, he's just..." She trailed off and Tristan could almost hear the sigh in her voice as he pictured her shoulders slumping in defeat. She couldn't argue with him, he had a point.

"Spoilt."

There was a moment of silence before Helen DuGrey spoke again. "Well, then what do you suppose we do?"

Tristan sighed and turned away from the stairs. He knew what his father would reply, it was the same every time; military school to 'straighten him out'. _Then _his mom would say 'absolutely not', the two of them would get into an argument and spend the rest of the week in silence, only exchanging barbed comments at mealtimes. Well, he wan't in the mood for it. Reaching his room, he grabbed the canvas messenger bag that usually lay discarded in the corner and messily stuffed a pile of clothes into it, before he slung it over his shoulder. He retraced his previous steps, hurrying down the stairs two-at-a-time, before pausing in the foyer, where he could see his parents still fighting in the lounge area. He sighed again, before exiting the house, and leaning against the front door as exhaustion of being the excuse for yet another fight between the David DuGrey and his unappreciated trophy wife hit him.

"If they kick you out can I have your room?"

Tristan looked up and glared at the newcomer as he got out of his car. His brother, Kai, leant against his black volvo, the patent DuGrey smirk on his face. "Well, can I?"

Not in the mood to engage in trivial conversation, Tristan ignored him, pushing past him to get to his vehicle. Sliding into the driver's seat, he rolled down his black tinted window and mock-smiled at him.

"Tell mom and dad I've gone out. I'll be back later, don't steal my room."

Kai saluted him sarcastically, and he turned his car exiting the driveway and wishing, not for the first time, he could be free of family drama and the DuGrey's high standards.

**:**

**:**

**A/N: ****So I WOULD have wrote more, but I began writing this on Friday, and it this long for such a small part that I decided I'd write more sooner but separately. Thanks to all those who rate and review, it makes me happier than a Gilmore with coffee (yes, THAT happy XD )**

**Anyway, yeah :) **


	8. Parents Vs Offspring

**A/N: So, I haven't updated in a couple of days. Sorry. Erm... yeah... I don't really have a good excuse... Anyway, THANK YOU to my six story followers who actually decided to, well, ****_follow_**** this story. And to my two reviewers :D So I hope this chapter is worth the wait, but - honestly - I have NO idea what I'm going to write, I'll just write SOMETHING and hope that it makes sense... =3 **

**yeah...**

**Note: **** I've changed Tristan's dad's name from"Harold" to "David", not for any important reason, but yeah, keep that in mind when wondering who on earth David is... if you tend to wonder that... I don't know if you do or don't, I don't know you... I think.**

**Note 2:  As mentioned in the Authors Note that is the previous chapter part, I don't really know if this is going to be a Trory or a Literati. So I've made a poll and I'd really love it if you readers would vote. There's three serious options and a half-serious half-joking one, and the poll can be found on my profile. The poll will end next Wednesday at about 5pm, GMT - I'm not sure what time that is in other time zones, sorry. And yeah... please vote :)**

**DISCLAIMER:**** I own NOTHING with a side of nothingness and half a cuppa tea...**

**:**

**CHAPTER SEVEN - **

**:**

By the time he'd returned home, his mother had gone to bed and his father was pissed. David DuGrey sat behind his desk, a glass of brandy to the side and his office door ajar, allowing him to look into the hallway opposite and wait for his troublesome son. At the sound of the front door opening, he straightened his back, correcting his formally slouched posture and glared at the boy who'd entered the house.

"Tristan," he barked,causing his son's head to shoot up in alarm, and their eyes to meet. "Tristan, come here now!"

The younger DuGrey took his time following his father's orders, casually strolling across the hallway to the study without care, even stopping to wipe dust of the rim of a decorative vase standing on an elaborate pedestal.

"Yes?" He asked, his patented Tristan-smirk on his face as he addressed the angered adult.

David glared at him, but did not immediately respond. He glanced at his watch before returning his gaze to his still smirking son.

"What time do you call this?"

To his annoyance, the grin did not leave Tristan's face. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you?" He leant against the doorframe and raised an eyebrow at his father. "I mean, you're the one with a watch."

As David's face turned numerous hues of red, Tristan couldn't help but inwardly cheer; there was nothing he liked more than irritating his father.

"We-Well I... That's not... You know I..." A small chuckled escaped his lips as his father spluttered indignantly. Big mistake.

Fed up of being made out to be a fool, David DuGrey drew himself out to his full (sitting) height, and puffed out his chest - the picture of power and authority.

"Get out." He snarled.

Tristan blinked in confusion, a small faint frown on his forehead. "What?"

"You heard me; Get out."

Still, Tristan didn't move, unsure of what to do - usually his father would end up grounding him for a week or so, making sure to confiscate his car and threatening him with the idea of military school.

"GET OUT!" David slammed a fist onto his desk with such force his glass of brandy moved backwards, half of it exiting its container and splashing the vanished oak surface. "GET OUT! _Get out!" _Standing up, he moved towards his son and grabbed him by the arm. Half pulling, half dragging Tristan, he headed towards the front door. Once there, he flung it open with such force one of the wooden panels cracked, fueling his anger. They halted at the frontsteps, as David turned to his offspring.

"Keys." He demanded, hand outstretched.

Tristan frowned, no trace of his former smirk present. "What?"

"Keys - house and car - give them to me. Now."

"What?" He repeated, disbelief colouring his words, "What? You've got to be kidding!"

"Evidently not." David DuGrey heatedly returned, his anger getting the best of him. "You leave when you want, you return when you want, you respect neither your mother or myself. We have to go to your god damn school on a regular basis - at least twice a month - and we receive numerous complaints regarding your behaviour from your peers, their parents and your teachers. It's one thing ruining your own life and quite another ruining the DuGrey name and its reputation. So until you sort yourself out, don't bother coming here again." He smiled sarcastically at his son. "I'll take your keys now."

Tristan made no move to hand over the keys and for a moment it seemed as though it was a battle of wills but then he noticed the ticking jaw muscle and the prominate blood vessel in the older man's forehead and thought better of it. So, reluctantly, Tristan concurred and gave him the keys.

"Thank you, I hope to see you again soon." With that, David DuGrey reentered the house and closed the door behind him, effectively locking his son out.

Tristan stops standing there for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Deciding on a plan, he exited the driveway, got out his phone and waited for a taxi, desperately hoping his idea wouldn't result in a second door being slammed in his face that night.

:

:

The taxi ride was long and uneventful, neither of them striking conversation. In fact, problems on arose when he reached his destination.

"That'll be €73.68."

"Oh, um... Do you take cards?" Feeling slightly stupid, Tristan scratched the back of his neck.

The driver turned around in his seat and glared at him. "You don't have cash..."

"No sorry," he shrugged as though to say 'what can you do?'. "I do have a card, though."

The driver sighed. "Let me see." He took it and examined it. "No, it's no good here."

Tristan ran a hand through his hair. "Damn. Look, what if I go inside now and get the money - in cash - would that work?"

"Sure, I'll wait out here whilst you go inside and avoid paying me. Wow, that sounds like a _great_ plan!" Once again he glared at Tristan.

"I didn't mean it like..."

"Whatever," he sighed, "Look, by all means go in and get the money - I'm going to keep hold of your lovely card 'til I get paid."

Tristan opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. "Okay."

Getting out of the vehicle, he hurried over to the door of the house, before pausing. It was late, he knew that - it had been a cause of his and his father's earlier disagreement - and he had no idea how the residents of the house would feel about being woken up at the current time of night, though he doubted they'd be particularly pleased. Having said that, he was pretty sure the taxi driver would kill him if he didn't get paid soon. Knocking on the door, he sighed and ran a hand through his purposely tossled hair. _Here goes nothing..._


	9. Just say 'Coffee'

**DISCLAIMER: Usual nothingness applies**

**CHAPTER EIGHT - Just say 'Coffee'**

"Tristan?" Rory Gilmore frowned at the boy at her door. "Tristan, what are you doing here?"

He smirked at her. "We have a project to do," he reminded her, "and there's no time like the present..."

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with his answer.

He sighed and started again.

"I had a fight with my dad... He kicked me out." He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable.

"And you chose to come here?" Her frown deepened as he nodded. "Why?"

"To see your lovely face." He winked and his patented smirk widening as she scowled at him.

"Yeah right," Rory rolled her eyes. "Real reason please."

Tristen shifted his weight from one leg to the other, a gesture which did not go unnoticed by Rory, as he tried to figure out what to say._ Why _had_ he came here? There were plenty of other people he could have turned to, plenty of other people nearby..._

In the end he opted for the most honest answer.

"You live the furthest away, and the bigger the distance between me and him, the happier I am."

"Oh." Was it just him, or did she sound disappointed? What had she thought?

"Yeah..." He shifted his weight again. "So can I come inside."

"Oh yeah, sure." A faint blush highlight her ivory skin as she led his into the house. "Sorry it's a mess, it's my mom's turn to tidy..."

"Right..." He shrugged. Honestly, he didn't mind the chaos of the place - it was certainly a refreshing change from a house with less character than a soggy cardboard box. "I like it - it's lived in."

At his words, she turned around and smiled at him. "Thanks." Her tone was almost shy.

"No problem." He replied, his voice equally soft.

Rory looked at him, _really _looked at him. He wasn't his usual cocky self, instead he was... Sad. Lonely and upset, he had turned to her rather than someone more familiar - Paris for example - or someone willing to sleep with him - such as Summer, Madeline, Louise or pretty much every other female in Chilton. He had chosen her company over everyone else, and that made her smile.

Which, in turn, made her panic.

" Do you want some coffee?"

"What?"

"Coffee, do you want some? Only, I find coffee helps - when I'm upset, I mean. And when I'm not, it's kind of good for everything... except sleeping, or feeding it to cats - it makes them sick and then they die and your mom ends up burying it in the inn's grounds which seems okay until it transpires that she didn't bury it properly and it starts to smell. Then Taylor ends up holding a town meeting about the smell and you end up up in the middle of the night digging up this dead stinking cat that you killed by feeding it coffee..." She trailed off, horribly aware of how strange her ramble must have came across. "So... Coffee?"

"It's the middle of the night." He shrugged, "Sure." Following The Rory into the kitchen he leant against the doorway, studying her as she buried herself making their coffees. "So was that cat thing true or just a bizarre bit of advice?"

She didn't answer, but blushed, ducking her head and avoiding the question altogether.

"Ah."

Silently she finished making their drinks and handed him his. He opened his mouth to speak when -

_HOOOOOOOOOONKKKK!_

Jumping, he spilt half his coffee, burning his hand. "SHIT!"

"What the hell?!" Rory's eyes widened as she just stood there in alarm torn between finding out the cause of honking horn and helping Tristan' "What was that?"

"Taxi." Grabbing the tea towel she handed him, Tristan wiped himself. "I got it from my house."

"Why's it still here?" She frowned.

"I forgot to pay."

"You forgot?"

"I didnt have the cash."

"So you want me to pay?"

"Well..."

"Why's he even letting you in here - I mean why would he trust you?"

"Not everyone's as entrusting as you, Mary." He smirked, "He's got my card - I get it back when he gets the cash "

"Sounds fair."

"The fairest."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Unsure of hat exactly he'd just agreed on, he only followed Rory as she headed back into the sitting room. Picking up a _leather...sinister _looking monkey lamp, she removed a wedge bills.

"Is this enough?"

"Yeah.. Sure." He guessed, hoping it he was right.

"Good." She handed them to him. "Go pay the driver."

He smiled in thanks and left the house.

:

:

Rory watched him talk to the driver through the front room window. As he spoke he smiled. Smiled - a genuine friendly smile. She liked it when he did that. It stopped him from being Evil Tristan, the ass, and transformed him into Nice Tristan, the friend. She frowned. She really needed to come up with a better nickname for him. Sighing she turned around and went to her room, tasking herself with tidying up in the short amount of time he was gone for. Books were stuffed into every available place, ranging from her desk to her shelves to under her bed. Some where even found in her socks draw.

"Mare?"

Tristan's voice caused her to still, in the middle of hiding - sorry, _tidying_ - a battered chemistry textbook.

"Yeah..."

"Wher are-" He didn't bother finishing his sentence as he found her, balancing precariously on a rickety chair, in the process of placing a book on top of her wonky looking shelves. "Never mind."

She smiled sheepishly at him and jumped off the chair. "Sorry."

"No need to apologise." He smirked at her as he looked around the room. "So this is what a Mary's room looks like."

Rory glared at him and he raised his hands in surrender. "Joking. It was a joke."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "So are you staying here?"

He wiggled his eyebrows successively and licked his lips. "Are you asking me to sleep with you, Mary?"

"What?! No!" She bit her lip, blushing and suddenly nervous. "I mean, you can sleep in here or on the couch, I don't mind. Though if you're on the couch my mom will probably see you and might sit on you, whilst if she finds you in here, she might think the worst and well... kill you. Slowly, painfully and gleefully on her part. Still, it's your choice."

"I'll risk the torture and sleep here - on the floor." He almost laughed at her sigh of relief. So predictably Mary-like of her.

"Okay, thanks." The two settled into a comfortable silence as Rory switched off her lamp.

"Tristan?" She asked, timidly. He could easily picture her biting her lower lip, her enchanting eyes widening ever-so slightly as she nervously broke their silence.

"Yeah?"

"Good night."

"Good night, Rory." He almost chuckled at how young she sounded; of how innocent and child-like she was. "Sweet dreams."

**A/N: Yeah, so double update. Hopefully you liked it. As pointed out by ****GilmoreGirlsAddict - Rogan Fan there was a mistake in my story description where it said Dean rather than Jess. Sorry about any confusion that caused, it has now been corrected and yeah. Thanks for pointing that out :)**

**So please rate and review and feedback is REALLY appreciated. Also, if you want to vote on the poll, please do - it can be found on my profile. Thanks again. :D**

**Updated - sorry, just wanted to add, I'm thinking about getting a Beta, so that I can improve this story and what not, but before I go contact someone, I was wondering if there's any available Beta whose reading this and would want to well... be a Beta for me? If so, please PM, if not, I'll go find one... at some point...**


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